A Story with a Disappionting Ending
by Mrs. Terwilliger
Summary: What happens when I try to write romance? I fail miserably, duh. The only thing that comes out of me is a story with a disappionting ending. If you're a romance fan, that is... XD


**WARNING:** The following story is a compleate and total ripoff of that story written by Luis Sachar. I mean like, word for word. It's kinda sad. You'd think I had better things to do than copy some stupid story word for word. If you want, you can pick up the story _Wayside School gets a Little Stranger_ and read how word for word it is. You will laugh at how pathetic I am.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Zim or this plot, since I ripped it off Luis Sachar.

Dib's father was a scientist at God-knows-where. Somewhere imporant, that's all I know. It's all SECRET, apperantly. (sticks out tongue). So anyway, this "secret place" had something very secret.

It was made by Dib's father. It was called the _Secret Thing_.

Next to the thing was a sign:

DO NOT TOUCH!

All day Dib's father made sure nobody touched the secret thing. Which was pretty stupid when you think about it, since he obviously had MUCH better things to do.

At night, after the secret place closed, Dib's father was alone. Just him and the _Secret Thing_.

And the sign. Do not touch! Do not touch! Do not...

He was dying to touch it. (This was also pretty stupid, since he made it in the first place, but anyway...we all know he has problems.) The tips of his fingers tingled with desire.

But this story isn't about Dib's father. It's about Dib.

Dib was a student in Ms. Bitters's class. He sat, like, three seats away from Zim. I don't really know, it's something like that.

Zim was green. And an alien. He just sat there, all day, right, well, _next to_(sort of) Dib's face.

_The Secret Person._

Do not touch! Do not touch! Do not...

Dib got up on his desk and screamed. "HE'S AN ALIEN, YOU MORONS! _AN ALIEN!_" Then he jumped off his desk and ran up to Zim and randomly began violently poking him. "ALIEN! ALIEN! ALIEN!"

"Yaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!" screamed Zim.

Ms. Bitters sent Dib to the councelor's office.

The councelor's office was four doors down. Dib had been there before, and in case you don't know, it wasn't a happy experience. There was a new councelor here now.

Like every student in Skool, he was afraid of the councelor. This was probably due to all the horrible screaming that was always coming from his room, but whatever, this isn't really relevant. The councelor had a very scary face, with big, bushy eyebrows and a little beard on his pointed chin.

Dib knocked on the door.

"Come in," said the councelor.

Dib entered and sat down on the couch.

"What's the problem?" asked the councelor.

"I told the world Zim was an alien again," said Dib._ Might as well do as he tells me to get on his good side,_ Dib thought, _I can't save the world if I've been killed by an insane councelor. _"It's getting kind of creepy because it's starting to become involentary. I can't help myself. ZIM IS AN ALIEN! There, see, that was involentary."

"Watch the pickle," said the councelor.

"What the...?" Dib's eyes went back and forth as he watched the swaying pickle. _Yes_, it really is a pickle. Don't ask me why this guy carries around a pickle on a chain with him wherever he goes.

"You are getting sleepy," said the councelor. "Your eyelids are getting heavy."

Dib suddenly felt tired. He could hardly keep his eyes open.

"When I count to three," said the councelor, "you will fall into a deep, deep sleep. One... two... three."

Dib closed his eyes. He wasn't exactly asleep. He felt like he was living in a dream. But it was a very pleasent dream. He felt happy and safe.

"Can you hear me?" asked the councelor.

"Yes," said Dib. He was no longer afraid of the councelor. In fact, he liked him alot.

"You will do what I say," said the councelor.

"I - will - do - what - you - say," Dib repeated.

"I am going to count to five," said the councelor. "And then you will wake up. You will return to your classroom. You will take you seat near Zim. You will want to expose him as an alien. But as you open your mouth, you will become extreamly interested in your chair's table leg."

"The - table - leg - is - cool," said Dib.

"Very good," said the councelor. "Now just one more thing." He rubbed his beard and smiled. "When Zim says the word 'pencil,' you will turn gay and start making out with him."

Suddenly a brown-haired, pony-tailed girl burt into the room, fuming. "YOU PERV! THAT'S DISGUSTING!" she yelled. The councelor smiled.

"These fangirls say different." he motioned to a bunch of ravenous girls in a cage.

"_GIVE US SLASH!!_" one of them screamed, trying to knaw at the metal bars chaining them.

The brown-haired girl gulped.

"If you don't let me do what I want, I will let these fangirls out and allow them to eat your face off," the councelor said calmly.

The pony-tailed girl was about to say something, but then slowly backed away, glancing nervously towards the cage. The fangirls were growling.

"When - Zim - says - 'pencil' - he - will - turn - sexy," said Dib.

The councelor counted to five.

Dib's eyes blinked open.

"You may go back to class now," said the councelor.

"I'm not in trouble?" asked Dib.

"No," said the councelor.

Dib shrugged. He returned to class. As he entered, Zim stuck his tongue out at him, being the immature moron he is.

Dib sat down.

"What' the councelor do to you?" asked The Letter M.

"Nothing," said Dib. "He's a nice man."

He looked at Zim. He was once again filled with the giant urge to scream at the class.

He opened his mouth.

His table leg squeeked. Dib forgot compleatly about Zim.

"What's that funny sound?" he muttered to himself. Dib realized that if he put just the right amount of pressure on the table, the table leg squeeked. He practiced making this sound. Over. And over. And over. And over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.

I was just a short while later that Zim broke his pencil.

"Oh, great!" he complained.

"What's the matter?" asked Zita.

Zim angerly showed her the pencil point, muttering something about pitiful humans and their pitiful writing utensils.

"You want to borrow mine?" asked Zita.

"NO! _I'll_ just go _sharpen_ it," Zim said nastilly. He went to the back of the room and sharpened his pencil.

He returned to his desk. He sat the pencil on his desk, but it rolled off when he sat down.

"HEY! Where has it _gooooone?_" he asked, turning around.

"Where'd what go?" Dib asked, finally paying attension to something besides the table leg.

"There it is," said The Letter M. "Under Dib's desk."

"What's under my desk?" asked Dib.

"I'll get it," said Zita. He reached under Dib's desk, picked up the pencil, and handed it to Zim.

Zim snached it and hissed angerly. Then everyone returned to work.

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**ALTERNANTE ENDING**

Romance fan: ... that was... disappionting. And stupid.

Me: I know.

Romance fan: If you don't write an alternante ending I'll eat your face off anyway.

Me: Fine, fine, sheesh.

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Zim stood up. "PENCIL!" he shouted randomly.

Dib got up and started making out with Zim. Then Zim suddenly became gay for some reason and liked it.

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Romance fan: (sniff) I... I can't believe it! She finally softened up ZADR! Yaaaaaaay!

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And then Luis Sachar burst in with a chainsaw and hockey mask.

"YOU RIPPED OFF MY STORY!!" he screamed. "NOW I'M GUNNA KILL EVERYBODY!"

"Go ahead," said Ms. Bitters.

To make a long and gory story short, he chopped everybody into itty bitty peices.

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Romance fan: ... I should have known.

Me: Yes, you should have. Shame on you.

Romance fan: Grrrrrrrrr... (walks off)

Okay, so I DID change a few things. Like the evil, ravenous fangirls. Oh well. Whatever. This was my hopeless attempt at romance, and I failed miserably, I know. Please review to tell me how horribly I failed at romance. If you don't, I'll set the fangirls on you.


End file.
